Earth was just as she remembered.

The passage in was a collage of snapshots in her mind, jumbled and out of focus. Captain Hadad was just as curious as everyone else to see the landmarks of their old home, and while Neptune and Uranus were too far out of position to justify changing course, Saturn and Jupiter were still sights to behold. They passed through the asteroid belt to Mars and Venus, the former the first grim reminder of what the Yīqún had done, the latter still shrouded in clouds and mystery. Earth was on the far side of Sol relative to their flight path, requiring yet another correction as they steered around the old Sun.

And then finally, Earth.

If Gyrfalcon had possessed actual windows and portholes instead of view screens, every one of her passengers and crew would have left nose prints on the glass, except for Alphad.

And Maggie herself, of course. She’d already seen what was coming.

As Earth and Luna grew larger on their screens, a hush seemed to fall over those gathered on the bridge, as if they were holding their breath in anticipation. Despite all she had told them, they still hoped that old Terra would be waiting for them as it once was, a bright blue jewel beckoning them home. Maggie wanted to scream at them, to tear them away from the screens, to spare them the horrible visions she herself had dreamt for decades, night after night.

Instead, she said nothing. They would learn the reality soon enough, see the blasted landscape with their own eyes. They could no longer hide from the truth, just as she hadn’t, and as they drew near, she found herself at Blye’s side. The compassionate Chevalier would suffer worst of all.

As they entered Earth’s orbit and Captain Hadad pointed the cameras at the old homeworld, Maggie closed her eyes and steadied her friend as best she could. As she gazed at the screens, seeing for the first time the broken landscape, the contaminated remnants of the oceans, the bleeding wounds of this once great planet, Blye swooned for a moment, though it was there and gone so quickly she thought she’d imagined it.

But one look into the younger woman’s eyes told the tale. She was strong, the kind of strength built on faith, yet that same belief had suffered a savage blow. A part of her had just died...and it would not be coming back. Not ever.

It was harder reading the Captain’s expression. His face was a mask, his eyes hooded, observing everything while betraying nothing, yet she knew it had affected him. They all had. Even Diggs was subdued as he watched the images from the screens, though she was unsure how much he understood. He could sense the emotions in the compartment easily enough...one would have to be deaf and blind not to...and Maggie suspected that was the reason once again for his solemn expression.

One by one they drifted away from the monitors, unable to watch any longer. Alphad even blanked his screen, his version of Privacy Mode. The evening meal would be a subdued affair tonight, the conversation all but nonexistent. Many would take their meals to their cabins, to reflect and mourn in private.

...just as she had forty years earlier.

But they had come here for a purpose, not just to play tourist. Maggie watched in silence as the crew went to work...with the euphoria of seeing Earth now gone, the captain now asked, “Are we ready to send out the pulse?”

“Cap’n, I’d really like a day or two to give the local region a thorough scan,” Slavko protested.

“With the Troika on our ass? We don’t have the time,” Remi countered, shaking his head. “It’s a risk...but staying here one moment longer than we have to is an even bigger one.” He swiveled back to Maggie. “So?”

The Tinker shrugged. “As ready as we’re gonna be,” she answered.

He gave her a curt nod. “Send it,” he ordered.

The gunner activated an icon on his console, transmitting the signal into space. They had dropped Booster Relays in key locations around the planet on their way in, otherwise they’d be restricted to Line-of-Sight, making their search much more difficult. “Pulse is active,” Slavko reported.

All eyes turned towards the monitors as they waited for a response. If this didn’t work, they’d be forced to search the region by more conventional means, a process that could take months. The seconds ticked by, and then...a return appeared on the screen, quickly followed by another. Another three emerged in quick succession, and then finally, after a lengthy delay, one last marker lit up.

“Six potential candidates, Cap’n,” Slavko reported. “No way to tell from here which one is the target.”

“Set a course, Xuilan,” he ordered his pilot. “Least time plot to all six.”

“Aye Cap’n,” she replied, her fingers dancing across the console. “It’ll take a minute; I still need to determine the orbit and velocity of all six returns.”

“As soon as you can then,” he answered, before glancing over at Maggie. “Anything you’d like to add?”

“Keep your weapons hot,” she warned. “If we missed any Yīqún drones last time I was here, I guarantee that signal just woke them the hell up.”

“Excellent advice,” he agreed. “You heard the lady, Slavko.”

“Aye, Cap’n,” the gunner replied.

“Any theories on why we got multiple returns on our signal?” Remi asked, turning back to Maggie.

The Tinker shrugged. “Could be other bodies,” she suggested. “Wouldn’t surprise me a bit if some ships got trapped in orbit durin’ the invasion.”

“That’s possible,” the Corsair nodded. “Anything else?”

“Well...the transponder’s configuration ain’t that unusual,” she speculated. “Might be readin’ other bits of unrelated tech.”

“Well, if that’s the case, we’ll find out soon enough.” He looked over at his pilot. “Are we ready for the first burn?”

“Just finishing my calculations,” Xuilan answered. There was a brief pause before she spoke again. “Last position locked in. Course to first target is set.”

“Then let’s get to it,” he ordered, as Gyrfalcon lit off its drive.

Mourning would have to wait until after they’d completed their search. The first leg they managed in less than an hour; given the density of the debris field surrounding Earth, traveling any faster was far too hazardous. As they drew closer Slavko locked up the target in his sights, his scope’s focus set to maximum. It didn’t take them long to realize it wasn’t what they were looking for.

“Part of a ship?” Xuilan asked, inspecting the wreckage.

“Yeah…Ymir-class shuttle,” Maggie nodded, “I recognize the lines.” She looked over her shoulder at the captain. “Must have pinged on its nav array.”

“Right then...Xuilan, take us to our next objective,” Remi ordered.

The next jump led them to another wrecked craft, this one slightly more intact. “Looks like a transport,” the captain said after a moment.

“Probably tryin’ to escape the Yīqún,” Maggie frowned. Another unwelcome reminder of just how thoroughly the enemy had savaged their world.

“Poor bastards,” Slavko muttered.

They couldn’t afford to spare time for sentiment. “Next signal, if you please,” the Corsair instructed his pilot.

The hop was a short one, and this time there were no obvious signs of derelict vessels or drifting fields of scrap. They slowed down to a crawl as they scanned the region, searching for their target.

“There!” Xuilan shouted, pointing at a brief flash of light as the object tumbled. Slavko zoomed in, adjusting his filters...as a space-suited figure rotated into view.

“Paydirt,” Remi smiled. “Xuilan, get us in close. Isi and Mairead are in the airlock, waiting to reel our friend in.” He glanced over at the Tinker. “Stand by the inner hatch. We’ll need you to verify it’s who we’re looking for.”

“I’m on it,” Maggie told him, making her way aft. It took almost half an hour to maneuver in close enough for the pair to go out on tethers to retrieve the body, before being reeled back in remotely from the Bridge. She watched through the porthole as they secured the outer door, cycling the airlock while pumping air in. Time slowed to a crawl as she waited for the reunion she never expected to make.

The inner hatch slid aside as Isi pulled off his helmet. “We found him!” he grinned in triumph, as Maggie knelt beside the corpse.

“...no...you didn’t,” she sighed, shaking her head.

“What?” Mairead shouted. “It’s got to be him!”

“It ain’t him,” Maggie repeated, rocking back on her haunches. “For one...that’s a woman.” She pointed at the faceplate, smudged with dust, the mummified face of a young female was just visible. She wiped the helmet off with her sleeve, her efforts uncovering the stenciled lettering, “PO3 R. Ahmad”.

“Goddamnit all to hell,” Mairead swore, slamming her fist into the bulkhead. “What the fuck are we supposed to do with her?”

Maggie rose to her feet. “There’s room in the airlock,” she pointed out. “I’d stash her there, till we can deal with her proper.”

“We could toss her back out,” Isi suggested, only to earn a glare from both women. “Hey, I’m just saying,” he mumbled.

The intercom warbled, as Remi’s voice came on. “What’s our status?” he demanded. “Is it him?”

Maggie thumbed the transmit button. “False alarm,” she growled. “It’s ain’t our guy.”

There was an interminable delay before he responded. “Understood,” he said in subdued tones. “Return to the Bridge. We’ll continue the search.”

“On my way,” she replied, before turning to the suited pair. “Pull the transponder,” she suggested, “maybe we’ll learn somethin’.” She headed back the way she’d come, ignoring the muffled curses behind her.

The mood on the Bridge was considerably less jubilant than when she’d left. “You’re certain it wasn’t our target?” Remi asked.

“Positive. Wrong name, wrong gender,” she informed him. “Told Mairead to yank the transponder anyway, just to be safe.”

“It can’t hurt,” he shrugged. “Xuilan, take us to our next destination.”

The next jaunt was a short one, twenty minutes or so. There were two beacons in close proximity to one another, only a few hundred kilometers apart. Arriving at the first site, they spent almost an hour scanning the region, only to come up empty-handed.

“I don’t get it,” Slavko protested. “There’s got to be something out there!”

“Could be some scrap of tech too small to spot,” Maggie pointed out.

“What if the transponder detached from Lieutenant Tsvetanov’s helmet?” Remi asked. “Could we still recover it?”

“Sure, if you can find it,” Maggie shot back, “but I’m kinda thinkin’ haystacks and needles here.”

“Right,” the Corsair sighed. “Xuilan, work with Slavko to pin this thing down. Try to triangulate its location.”

“It might take a while,” the pilot said.

“Then you’d better get started,” he prompted her, none too gently.

“Aye Cap’n,” she swallowed, as she and the Gunner got to work.

“I’m gonna grab some chow and check on Diggs,” Maggie informed them. “Let me know if you find somethin’.”

“Copy that,” Remi nodded, his eyes still fixed on the display.

The Tinker padded back to the compartment she shared with Rúna and the boy. She found the pair upside down...apparently, the corporal was teaching him how to do a headstand. They both waved as she entered, and while the younger woman had no problems keeping her balance, Diggs toppled over on his side, earning chuckles from them both. For a moment he glared at the pair, his pride wounded, but it didn’t last long. Soon he was grinning sheepishly when he realized there was nothing malicious in their laughter.

“Thought I’d eat,” Maggie told them. “You all hungry?”

Diggs nodded, rubbing his stomach, as the redhead dropped back down onto her feet. “Maybe a Soya bar,” she said, standing up, “I gotta be careful shipside. Too easy to pack on the kilos and not burn ‘em off.”

“Let’s see what we can find,” Maggie grinned, leading the trio into the corridor and towards the Mess. Soya bars all around would be an easy option, she thought, heading for one of the storage bins...only to be slammed into a bulkhead as the deck plates beneath her feet lurched hard.

“...this is the Captain, don suits now!” he thundered over the intercom, as Maggie staggered, her head throbbing from the blow. “We are under attack! Strap in and hold on!”

Without a word the two women grabbed Diggs as the klaxons screamed, one under each armpit, yanking him off his feet as they stumbled back to the compartment. Maggie fought the panic that was threatening to overwhelm her; while she and Rúna both had their own suits, the boy did not. With his sudden reappearance on Gyrfalcon it had forced them to make do with what they had, and it was no surprise the ship didn’t carry child-sized versions in its stores.

Which left him with an adult-sized E-Suit.

E-Suits were stripped down adaptations of the suits she and the others wore, designed for emergency use only. They’d keep you from choking in vacuum or freezing to death, but that was about all they were good for. She’d drilled donning one with Diggs just in case, but it had only been practice. Whether she could keep him from panicking when it was for real…

Protocol on donning suits during an emergency was clear: you only assisted someone else when you were fully sealed and reading green. They drilled it into you from the moment you were old enough to understand, one of the “10 Golden Rules” that all shipborn children learned to stay alive in a crisis.

So of course both she and Rúna ignored protocol, stuffing Diggs into his E-Suit before attending to their own. Both women were experts, the skill honed over many years. Both had seen suits fail, and both knew full well the risk they’d taken by disregarding procedure.

Some things went deeper than mere training.

Once the E-Suit’s telltales turned green, they were both focused on donning their own suits. Precious seconds ticked away as they struggled into the bulky outfits, but Maggie knew without asking Rúna didn’t regret her decision any more than she did. Neither wanted to die; both would have slashed their own throats before letting it happen to Diggs. Her head slipped through the neck ring as she sealed the suit, rolling her shoulders forward while kicking out one leg and then the other, ensuring it was properly situated on her body. She grabbed the helmet and slammed it on, giving it the needed twist to lock it into place, before giving her HUD display one quick glance to see if they sealed it.

All green. Good to go.

Another quick check on Diggs, to ensure he wasn’t panicking. His eyes were wide and his O2 consumption was high, but he was still under some semblance of control. The E-Suit fit him about as well as you’d expect, and she took a few moments to hike up the lower half so he wouldn’t stumble. She and the redheaded corporal double-checked each other’s work before she activated the suit radio.

Rúna beat her to the punch. “Go,” she said. They were both veterans in their respective fields, and both knew the drill; when a ship was under attack, Tinkers reverted to Damage Control.

Maggie only managed a brief nod in thanks before dropping to look Diggs in the eye. “I have to check the ship and see if it needs fixin’,” she told him, “so you stay here with Rúna, and do what she says.”

The boy looked as if he was about to protest, when inspiration struck him. He pulled away and grabbed something from the deck...the wrench presented to him by the Tinkers of Fiddler’s Green. Apparently he’d taken it off prior to his headstands. He held it up before him like a warrior of old with his sword before taking her by the wrist, determined to help.

Something inside her broke. Fighting back a sob, she grabbed him and pulled him close, hugging the boy with all her might. “I love you,” she said, her voice cracking, “and I swear it’ll be okay.”

As she pulled back, she saw Diggs crying tears of his own. She gazed at him and smiled before sharing a brief glance with the Valkyrie...an entire conversation taking place in between heartbeats:

If I don’t come back...watch over him.

I will...I swear it on my honor.

Nothing else needed to be said.

Maggie gave the boy one last squeeze and then grabbed her tools and exited the compartment.